Dead Heat
by Jemophwriter
Summary: [Rewrite of an older fic] Approximately nine years have past since the Green flu spread across America, spanning both East and West coasts. A lone survivor in California, tired of waiting in one spot, decides he has enough and ventures out to explore the rundown America... and with him, a rather perplexing Witch?


Chapter 1: Dog Days

Author Foreword: Revival/rewrite of an OC/Witch fanfic….. Rousing, I'm sure. Anyway It's to pass the time and all. Besides, not like Valve will pump any games out in a few months or something right? Or atleast we'll have to wait for good ol L4D3 to get announced.

Onto the fic

XmXmX

Hot and uncomfortable was the general feeling.

As flies hung in the lazy warm air, the summer sun shone over the desolate cityscape. By now(and who was even counting) the cities were worn down. Structures collapsed as those infected by "The Green Flu" mutated and rotted on the streets of California.

The bloody remains of survivors(or their now-primal beings) scattered a local street. It wasn't quite life, but after years of conflict and pain, it was normal.

What was also normal, was a loud shot that disturbed the unnatural quiet of this forgone street. The chunks of gore and bile from a boomer rained down upon the street as the tumor-covered lump of a lower body smacked on the hot concrete. Few of the infected gathered around both the building the shot originated from, and the boomer remains

"Yet another one bites the dust…"

Wiping the sweat from his brow, the lone sniper marked another tally on a piece of wood he kept near him. Of course his appearance was disheveled; Dirt accumulated on his shoes, the pair of hiking shorts he had were stained from tan to a dirty brown, and it was long since his current tank top had ever been white, all atop a thin frame.

"Number 1,467, 9th Summer since infection… I think. Bah, noone to correct the date."

As a summer wind blew his way, he threw back his shaggy, dirty blonde hair. His hands scratched his stubble as he figured how many of the infected were left

"Hrm….. 54 on the street, and a few surrounding my humble abode. Quaint. Looks like your work is cut out for you, Todd." He admitted to himself.

He stood up from the balcony set up he had, which was messy and covered in food bags, a lawn chair, and messy clothes, to head back into his home.

It was a mess however, considering the dirt, mold and the wrecked furniture. All mostly set up as defense.

The survivor walked down to an equally messy ground floor, complete with a kitchen that had seen better days, and a living room-turned planning area, complete with barricaded windows and a few containers for his weapons. The man settled his hunting rifle and got to work on repairing his weapons.

Outside of taking it out on the zombies, working supply runs on whatever remained in the city, there was the occasional survivor group or even a trader or two roaming around somehow. Todd never understood how they had survived.

"Heh, gotta keep up business…"

His last visitor, or at least one who could talk, was last here about 5 weeks ago. Or it seemed. The trader sold him his current supply of food before he ran off. Seems to have left quite a ruckus too.

He stared at the pages of the manual he had as he finished up the last of the weapon maintenance, before walking over to the bin with his food in it. As he predicted, the food supply was running low, even considering how much ridiculous amounts of preserved food the traveler gave him.

"Well shit."

The survivor stared out a crook in the barricades at the window. While there were a few rotten infected, but not much else, before staring at his "home". He had been here for so long, ever since the infection hit. He decided not to go to the evacuation; stay, he said, in order to see if he could at least hold out before he died from it.

Or maybe Todd was morbidly curious from the articles some dumb media outlets put out before they were shut down and evacuated?

"Bah, I've had enough here. I'm going."

Why spend your life cooked up in a deathtrap? Why wait for the end to come?

He had exhausted all the stupid reasons, and yet somehow he was lucky. Not so many tanks crossed his path, even though he watched some. Not too many infected barged into his place to investigate. Hell, the survivors that came across him were the ones who got all the trouble!

As he started stuffing clothes in his bag, along with important food and weapon parts, he reminisced on how this all went to shit, and just how much the country fell after the infection hit the mid-United States… and then he remembered one final moment with a friend of his...

XmXmX

" _So, where are you headed to after the "Green Flu" hits your place huh?"_

 _Todd looked over to his drinking buddy, Jimmy, as they drank their last drinks before the bar they frequented closed_

" _Where I'm headed to?"_

" _Yeah. Personally I'm going up north. I hear the infection up there ain't that bad, considering how cold it is."_

 _The younger man combed his short hair back and chuckled_

" _I'll stick around here. Maybe see if I can set up a shop or some shit."_

" _Are you sure about that?" His friend asked, "I could get Tommy to-"_

" _No, none of that. I'll stay here. There might be a few people left to help."_

 _Jimmy stared at him hard, taking another sip of his bourbon_

" _And when there's none left?"_

 _Todd sighed, thinking about it for a moment as he shot another dart at the board nearby. It nearly hit the middle_

" _Think I'll kill myself, or make myself useful until I either turn or croak."_

 _His friend put an arm around him, with a melancholic expression draping his face. He raised his glass, and Todd answered with his own, one final toast._

" _Stay safe ya damn coyote."_

" _You too."_

XmXmX

Todd stood at the yard, having dealt with his belongings and the infected at his door. He stared at his home before he walked. He made it past one of the sign posts before he lit the fuse on a pipe bomb he got from his encounters. Throwing the beeping device at the device through the open door of his house, and right into a stockpile of gas cans he had kept for emergencies.

Turns out he didn't need it for cars

As he sneaked away, infected flocked to the home, only to be blasted or cooked by a large explosion and housefire. The sound of the blaze attracted even more infected, and the survivor was forced to sneak through other yards and bushes, hoping the infected wouldn't see. However, as he reached the next street, an infected lying on the ground grabbed his leg

"Aghl!"

As the fettered, yet living, corpse used it's ruined vocal cords to moan, Todd swung a bat, bursting the arm in gore, before making a break for it as the sun set over the city.

He had a long way to go for the nearest safe house….

XmXmX

Cold and loneliness was all there was.

Inside the worn down building rested a dying woman, her breath shallow as she felt her mind slipping. The auburn haired woman struggled up, removing her jacket and drew her ghostly pale arms around her shivering frame, now only adorned in a baby blue tube top and a pair of tight spandex shorts.

In her rush she had removed everything valuable, and stared at her own pale body.

"S-so… this is the end huh? Done in after several years of surviving…. Heh…"

She coughed, crying out as another shiver and more memories tumbled away from her

"Guess the world has some… twisted sense of humor…."

She contemplated what she wanted, but her gun was discarded two floors away, and she could feel new urges and "instincts" driving and overruling her thoughts

"Goodbye, oh world…"

The woman, for the first time in her life, cried, as she drew up her cold, clawed hands.

Who she was became forgotten by the next morning as a new witch huddled in the corner, crying in the silence of the dead...

XmXmX

Afterword: Felt compelled to do this considering this is summer and I was meaning to revive this. Guess we'll see what happens next. Leave a review if you liked it or whatever, and see you next chapter


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